Algernon's Bouquet
by VexieChan
Summary: Memory is the key. And the Director likes his past locked up tight. After all, Blood Gulch always was where he kept his broken toys, wasn't it? After unlocking a few of the secrets locked away in a theoretically empty mind, Agent Washington decides to find out. Starts at 10x18 and spins away into AU.


**Algernon's Bouquet**

_Chapter One: Shaken_

A strangeness fell over Caboose that he had not felt for a very long time. Silence descended like a blanket of snow, allowing Church's words to echo without the buffer of all of the normal noise. For the first time in a long time, the world was sharp and clear. Too sharp and clear. Tucker's made some response—it was too sharp for Caboose to process. The sound of his footsteps as he walked away drummed into the blue soldier's head. How long had it been?

The lights drilled into his eyes; the sharpness of the objects around him almost cut into him. He stumbled backward a step—the sudden lack of buzzing threw him off balance. He looked at the large red AI for a moment longer. Somewhere, a part of him that felt vaguely _normal_ frantically threw phrases at him—things he could say in reply, questions he could ask, ways he could justify what had just happened. But the quietness and clarity enveloped him and steadied his consciousness. An old ache burned steadily inside of him. Without a word, Caboose turned and walked away in slow, measured paces. Did Church speak? He didn't notice.

Caboose focused on the sound of his own footsteps echoing through the corridor as he made his way through Red Base. After a few moments, he heard a second set of footsteps close behind him. Agent Washington. He didn't acknowledge the Freelancer, but he didn't adjust his pace either. Washington caught up and kept pace with him easily. Not quite together, Caboose and Washington walked outside.

The stroll through the admittedly pretty canyon might have been companionable, had Wash not been so concerned. The silence and purpose with which Caboose walked was uncharacteristic—even his sneaky prowl was usually narrated by the soldier's "Sneaking…sneak-ing….sneaking!" This silence worried Wash, but he didn't know what to do. Caboose continued in a determined path toward the waterfall. Wash had no way of knowing that he needed the noise to relieve the painful clarity with which he was now seeing the world. Wash just knew that they needed to regroup, to decide what to do next. He needed a strategy, an objective. A reason to keep moving.

"Hey," he said, unable to take the strange silence any longer. Caboose might have paused, but it was brief.

"Hey!" Wash repeated, concern lacing his voice with concern and an extra shot of volume. He grabbed Caboose's shoulder.

"What?"

Wash recoiled at the sharpness in Caboose's voice. This wasn't the cranky child he was used to hearing when their daily treks ran a little long or Grif stole his cookies. This voice sounded like the adult tone the others usually took in reply.

"Uh, are you—" Wash stumbled over the words uncomfortably. He just wanted to get Caboose back with the others so they could decide what to do next. He wasn't good at this kind of thing. This was North's department. Long ago, North laughed at him good-naturedly while he stumbled over an apology for some misremembered crime against York.

"_Look, I don't do touchy-feely, okay?" Wash snapped, putting his helmet on over his burning face as a less-than-amused York stormed off._

"_Just be genuine, and for god's sake, _listen_. It's not actually about you. Remember that and you'll be okay. Take it from an old veteran," North replied, punching his shoulder in a friendly way. _

"Are you okay?" Wash asked, or started to. The last word was lost again as he looked up to find Caboose removing his helmet. The face that stared back at Wash startled him. Why? It was just Caboose—but then, had he ever seen Caboose with his helmet off? He tried to think. No, he hadn't. This face startled him because it was so different from what he had pictured all this time. This wasn't the "Caboose" he'd imagined.

Caboose watched him as if he knew what the ex-Freelancer was thinking. His face was almost gaunt, delicate bone structure giving him a thoughtful look. The long nose had been broken several times, but could have healed worse. His hair was so blonde it was almost white. Wash had the impression that it was usually kept shaved fairly close to Caboose's head; though it was still short, it had a shaggy, untouched look. It stood out in odd tufts around a long purple scar that went from left temple to almost the back of his head. Caboose's eyes were deep cobalt, darkening as he knit his eyebrows together.

"I remember," Caboose said slowly, dropping his helmet on the ground.

"You remember?" Wash repeated.

_Memory is the key_.

"I wasn't always Church's…problem," Caboose said, frowning as though he were fighting to hold on to something.

"Right. You were best friends," Wash nodded, glad to be on familiar territory. For a shining moment, he thought he'd be able to relax, but Caboose shook his head with a grimace.

"No, something else." He looked out toward the waterfall. Keeping his eyes trained on the perpetual movement of water, Caboose took a deep breath.

"I think I used to know how to do stuff. Important stuff with computers and machines. I remember lots of papers with pictures of machines and math on them. And pushing buttons," he said. The ghost of a smile touched his lips briefly. Wash could almost see the boyish face he'd always imagined.

"I made them but…" Caboose frowned again.

"What happened?" Wash asked.

"I remember Church was there…but he wasn't like Church. He was…older….or…" Caboose shook his head, frustration further darkening eyes and bringing lines to the corners of his mouth. He didn't understand what he remembered, but Wash did.

"The Director," he breathed. Caboose didn't seem to hear him.

"We were best friends…no, that's wrong….we worked together. Partners. We had a…project. I was excited to test it, but it was a secret so I agreed to….I had to…what did I do? I woke up different. It was _loud_. Too loud. I remember burning…" Caboose was looking at the ground, but Wash knew he wasn't seeing anything. His skin started to prickle. Caboose and the Director as partners? Doing what?

"I woke up again and I was a soldier. I don't remember joining…I remember paperwork with the UNSC University of Engineering stamp and saying goodbye to my sisters, but then I… went to Blood Gulch and….I met Church? No, that's not right." Caboose dropped his head into his hands.

"But what were you working on? Focus…Can you remember anything? Any detail about what you were doing with the Director?" Wash asked, his voice fast and high. Blood pumped electric beats in his ears. Something big was happening—he could almost see how the dots connected. Almost. If he could just get a few more details…

Caboose lifted his head to look at Wash. His eyes were lightening, clouding over. Even Wash could see he was losing this moment of clarity.

"No, I don't…I don't think Church wanted me to. The other Church. The older one. He said he was sorry but…." Caboose's gloved hand almost touched the scar on the side of his head. "I woke up and it didn't hurt anymore, but I had two scars instead of one."

Wash began to ask what he meant, but at that moment Caboose turned to look at the waterfall again and Wash saw them…three almost invisible pink lines that formed a loose triangle where his head joined his neck. His mouth went dry and he felt his stomach drop. The matching scars on his own head began to burn with the ghost of realization.

"The AI." The words escaped from Wash's lips in a ragged whisper.

"Washington….what does the A stand for?" Caboose asked softly. "I can't remember, but I think it's important."

Wash couldn't answer. His hands were in tight fists at his side. His teeth chattered against some unknown chill. Caboose closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. He sat down facing the waterfall and picked up his helmet. The moment of clarity was coming to an end. The world began to slip out of focus, colors and sounds softening. Caboose let the softness settle around him in relief. He picked up his helmet and began toying with his visor. He was Caboose again, not…whoever he used to be.

"Siiiiiigh," Caboose narrated aloud in his own voice. "And now my best friend is angry with me."

"I know, buddy," Wash said, fighting to regain control of his body's violent shaking. "Hey, I have to go talk to Tucker. Do you want to come?"

"No, I want to stay here," Caboose said, setting his helmet aside. He began tossing rocks at the waterfall. Wash hesitated for a moment. The other person was gone, but Caboose wasn't fully back yet. He wondered whether he should leave the soldier alone.

"I can come back," Wash offered.

"Okay," Caboose said. He gave Wash a smile that didn't quite meet his empty eyes. Somewhere in the distant past, North Dakota put a reassuring hand on a newly christened Washington's shoulder.

"I'll be right back. Just don't do anything dumb and you'll be fine," Wash echoed North.

"Okay," Caboose repeated. He took up his rock tossing game again. Seven splashes later, the smooth stone sank.

Wash let his eyes drift to the two scars on Caboose's head one more time before he walked away to find Tucker. He took several deep breaths and focused on keeping an even pace. Though he had questions that needed answering as soon as possible, Wash had to fight the urge to just start punching things instead. Part of him didn't want to know the answers he was in search of.

"_Mission first, deal with it later," Maine said in one of his rare moments of talkativeness, palming Wash in the forehead in what might have been a playful way if it weren't for his colossal strength. _Sorry_, he shrugged as Wash struggled to regain balance and rubbed his neck reproachfully. _

As Wash approached Red Base, he found Carolina strapping the last of her supplies to the mongoose. Epsilon, miniscule once more, floated near the handlebars. Freelancer and AI both turned toward him as he approached. Wash stopped dead. Anger hit him like a wave, rushing up through his chest. His old teammate raised her head in response.

"You sick fuck," he growled before he could regain control. Carolina bristled, her hand going for her gun.

"The hell—" she began but Wash shook his head, pointing.

"Not you, _him_," he said. The blue AI held out his hands in a gesture of peace.

"Look, if this is about what I said—" but Wash cut the AI off as well.

"It's not. Maybe when you remember everything, you'll know what you did. Maybe you should start by asking yourself why everyone is here," he said.

"What are you _talking_ about?" Epsilon asked impatiently. Wash laughed without humor.

"Memory is the key," he said wryly. Carolina stepped between Wash and Epsilon, her hand still on her gun.

"Washington, we've got places to be. Go make cryptic comments at someone else," she snapped. Wash ignored her and continued watching Epsilon. But the AI remained silent.

"Forget it," Wash said finally, pushing past Carolina and going into the base.


End file.
